Absolute Pish
by Sean Bean Rocks my Heinz
Summary: This, as the title so clearly states is ABSOLUTE PISH. Any self-respecting author wouldn't have thought of putting it up and no reader would read it. Course, I'm not self respecting. Don't Read it. PLEASE. It's the worst and only Hansel and Gretel CA


Absolute Pish  
  
  
Hard by a great dead forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife and his two children and his donkey, Ethel. The boy was called Hansel and the girl Gretel, and the donkey Ethel. He had little to bite and to break, and once when great death fell on the land, and everyone was dying, he could no longer procure even daily bread and then they all died.  
  
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW...  
  
Such a wee shame, isn't it? It could be featured Jenny Jones...in fact it was just last week. But a-ha you see, this was merely a short distraction to shortly distract you for a short while so I could write that fan fiction I lied and told you I'd wrote...and while you were shortly distracted, I WROTE IT!  
  
Right, now, the story:  
  
Once upon a time, in a far away kingdom where the grass was purple and elephants were really sea-monkeys in pantomime costumes, there lived a fain, facile, faffing, failure, flubbery fiend-like farce fanny called Old Deuteronomy, his wife Gus, and their two children Coricopat and Tantomile, who for convenience were all hungry and dying.  
  
Now when the fain, facile, faffing, failure, flubbery fiend-like farce fanny thought over this by night in his bed, and tossed about in his anxiety, he groaned and said to his wife some dirty words that are quite unrepeatable in a story of this rating. And when they were quite done skinning those monkeys - WINK - the fain, facile, faffing, failure, flubbery fiend-like farce fanny asked his wife "What is to become of us? How are we to feed our poor children, when we no longer have anything even for ourselves?"  
  
"I'll tell you what, dearest fanny," answered Gus, "Early tomorrow morning we will take the children out into the forest to where it is the thickest. There we will light a fire for them, throw them in it and watch them slowly charcoal and burn to death. We shall sell tickets to the event and the money we shall receive will do us over for a couple of minutes."   
  
"No, wifey," the fain, facile, faffing, failure, flubbery fiend-like farce fanny said grimly. "I will not do that. If we burn them to death we shall never be able to eat the remains."   
  
"O' you fool," said she, "It would be so funny to watch!"  
  
"Oh, alright then!"  
  
The two children had also not been able to sleep for the noise Gus and the fain, facile, faffing, failure, flubbery fiend-like farce fanny made when they were letting loose Pandoras goldfish - WINK - and had heard what Gus had said to their fain, facile, faffing, failure, flubbery fiend-like farce fanny.  
  
Tantomile wept bitter tears of small white pebbles that shone like real silver pennies in the moonlight, which was very convenient, and when day dawned, but before the sun had risen, Gus came and awoke the two children, saying "Get up, you sluggards. We are going into the forest to burn you alive." But Coricopat stoned her to death with the pebbles and he and Tantomile ran far off into the woods before she had a chance to be ressurected.  
  
Tantomile, who had before been convicted for such matters, told her dear brother "We must elope to Mexico, where incest is legal, and live there for many years, until our dear fain, facile, faffing, failure, flubbery fiend-like farce fanny had found a new wife to relieve him of his urges to skim milk."  
  
And so they walked the whole night and all the next day too from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the forest, and were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but the fine and hearty meals they had found on silver platters, which grew on the ground.   
  
And as they were so weary that their car would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree and fell asleep.  
  
It was now three mornings since they had left their fain, facile, faffing, failure, flubbery fiend-like farce fanny 's house, quick, ey?  
  
They began to walk again, but they always came deeper into the forest, and if help did not come soon, they would die of nuclear rocket through the head.   
  
When it was mid-day, they saw a beautiful snow-white kitten balancing dangerously on a bough for no good reason, which danced so delightfully that they stood still and watched it.   
  
And when its dance was over, they leapt on it, teeth bared, ripped it apart and feasted like kings, or perhaps ravenous cats.  
  
Then, since Phillidia-Crowley Smith led a small revolution of angry Victoria fans to the authors house, the cat, who was in fact...very beautiful and...nice...and...very much alive...heh heh...heh....led Coricopat and Tantomile to a small lighted house in the middle of the woods....heh heh don't kill me....  
  
And when they approached the house they realised it was built of catnip!  
  
Tantomile stopped her brother. "Coricopat, my psychic abilities tell me there is a stoned old hag in that house, who believes she is a witch and eats kittens every day. If we go inside, nothing but doom and a long and painful shall await us...plus I already read the script."  
  
"But...a catnip hoooooouuuuuuse!" Coricopat whined, jumping impatiently from one paw to the other with such a pathetic look in his eye that Tantomile consented.  
  
"Oh...alright then! I'm sure we'll be fine..."  
  
But before they could set to work on it, a stoned old hag as old as the hills, who supported herself on crutches, came creeping out.   
  
Coricopat and Tantomile were so terribly frightened that they died of cholestrol problems, and their animated corpses had to continue the tale.  
  
The stoned old hag, however, bobbed her head around at unsightly angles and giggled madly. "I'm teaching mice-mice-smice-oh hi-oh-chidley-de-ho-ha-boobies! My mice can tat-tat-bombschmat! Oh, you dear kittens-kittens-like-mittens! Are the cornflakes after you? Mittens taste good you know! They taste like cockroaches! Cockroaches are nummie! Num-num-kiss-ma-bum! I'm a poet and nobody knows it because I'm NOT! I eat human flesh but only the vegetarian kind! The sky is made of ravenous spider legs! They'll get yoooooooooooou....do come-hehehe-I said COME! Come come come insiiiiiiiide kiddies! Come come little scum! Come before the Mister Men get you!"   
  
She took them both by the paw, and danced the "Dashing Whute Sergants" for several years until death punched her in the ear and she led them inside the little catnip house.   
  
Then good food was set before them, milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts. Of course it was useless, because cats can only eat meat but they humoured her by rubbing it in one anothers fur and taking chunks out of the emu's the stoned old hag had mistaken for cockroaches.  
  
Afterwards two pretty little beds were covered with clean white linen, and Coricopat and Tantomile lay down in them, and thought they were in heaven.  
  
But they weren't, they were in fact in pretty little beds covered with clean white linen and I will NOT have anyone thinking otherwise, am I clear?!  
  
The stoned old hag had only pretended to be so kind...well...not pretended as much as was stoned into believing she was an Angel whose only task on earth was to prostitute herself and make sure the Carebears and Her Little Ponies did not melt their pots again....stupid bear-like-pony crossbreeds...  
  
She was in reality a wicked witch - but don't tell her that - who lay in wait for young kittens, and had only built the little house of catnip in order to entice them there, because one cannot live on Cockroaches alone.  
  
When a child fell into her power - or at least her catnip house - she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that was a feast day with her.   
  
Witches have red eyes, and cannot see far, but they have a keen scent like the beasts, and are aware when human beings draw near.  
  
But she was a cannibalistic cat who was stoned enough to believe that she could do magic tricks.  
  
When Coricopat and Tantomile came into her neighborhood, she laughed with malice, and said mockingly, "She'll be coming round my bloomers when she explodes in a puff of preeeetty pink dragons very unlike toilet seats but more like frenchmen!"  
  
Early in the morning before the kittens were awake, she was already up, and when she saw both of them sleeping and looking so pretty, with their plump and rosy cheeks, she screamed loudly "NUKE THE CATS! TUPENCE A BOMB!"  
  
Then she seized Coricopat with her shrivelled little paw, and threw him into a large, opened, easily escapable cage. Scream as he might, it would not help him.   
  
Then she went to Tantomile, shook her till she died and cried "Get up, up down up like a balloon fullapants you lazy device unlike a soap bar, and dance dance dance the hooly dooly I like neckties and get water, and cook something good good like food food is good goog giddleygood for your sister who is not your unle Jim, he is in that large, opened and easily escapable cage, and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I will eat him and him I shall eat and he will no longer remain uneaten but will be fat."  
  
Tantomile began to weep those damned bitter pebbles again, but it was all in vain, for she was forced to do what the stoned old hag commanded, because I'm a lobster.  
  
And now the best food was cooked for poor Coricopat, but Tantomile got nothing but crab-shells and sometimes crab-shells, but never crab-shells. ...mother?! JENNYANYDOTS, YOU COW! THAT'S MY MOTHER! AND UNCLE JIM! ....I KNEW I shouldn't have let you into the family reunion when I saw you carrying those lobster cages...  
  
Every morning the stoned old hag crept to the little stable, but that was in vain for the largem opened and easily escapable cage was upstairs in the bedroom, but see if she noticed.  
  
Then, a handy grand piano fell and crushed her to death. Me? Biast? ...yes.  
  
Tantomile, however, ran like lightning or perhaps something fast that can run, to Coricopat, called him an arse-licking eejit for not escaping sooner, and told him of the stoned old hags death.  
  
Then Coricopat sprang like a bird, or perhaps a bouncy spring, from his cage.  
  
How they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance about and kiss each other, and made many, many kittens.  
  
And as they had no longer any need to fear her, they went into the witch's house, and in every corner there stood chests full of pearls and jewels.   
  
"These are far better than your stupid bitter pebbles." Said Coricopat, and they stole as much as they could.  
  
"You smelly-smelly-bomb-shelly freaky wee beaties!" cried the stoned old hag as she hobbled up behind them, blindly flailing her crutches.  
  
She tried to throw Tantomile into a nearby incinerator, or perhaps invite her to barn-dance with her, either way, the author soon killed off her character, and the kittens were on their way.  
  
Long, boring bit short, the ...nice and kind white cat who everyone loves and is...nice...flew Coricopat and Tantomile to Mexico - but don't ask me how - where they fucked happily ever after.  
  
And the stoned old hag died by the way.  



End file.
